


Wicked Hearts

by RedInkOfShame



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dom/Sub adjacent, F/M, Light Bondage, Magic dick, Smut, classic Winter Palace smut, classically kinky anyway, tfw you're a dom but she ain't a sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:16:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27564403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedInkOfShame/pseuds/RedInkOfShame
Summary: There's a Patrick Weekes'tweetin which someone asked them if Solas is naturally bald, or shaves. They replied that maybe he uses magic to say 'don't grow hair now'. Which makes me think... Whatelsecan he magically 'grow'......He yanked the last of the laces free and her corset fell to the floor, exposing her breasts to the chilly air. His long fingers wrapped around her wrists, easily confining both her hands with one of his.“Solas? What are you—”He growled and caught the sensitive tip of her ear between his teeth this time. When she made no effort to speak again he released her, only to bind her wrists together with the laces of her own corset, his nimble fingers binding her together with seemingly well-practiced knots.Well this was new… What had gotten into him?
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan/Solas, Inquisitor/Solas (Dragon Age), Keria/Solas, Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Wicked Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> It's my turn to write the Winter Palace smut! 
> 
> This has always been an aspect of Solas/Keria's relationship, but not one I've really posted before. So enjoy!  
> drunk!Solas = dom!Solas

Solas found Keria out on a balcony, leaning on the balustrade. He could read her mood etched in the slump of her shoulders — narrow shoulders, bearing the heavy weight of an empire as well as silken finery.

He joined her, leaning against the stonework as well. The Orlesian wine made his head swim a bit, and though he did not allow it to impair his movements it was still of some relief to have something solid to support him.

Her face was pale in the light of the moons, her eyes like blue lightning. Her cosmetics were somehow still in place, though her hair had long since escaped from her attendants’ attempts to control it. It was dark like a storm, and so prone to drawing static and wind that she kept it short out of necessity. Now, though, with the sweat of combat and the floral gels attempting to hold it in place, it looked just as it did when she was pressed into the pillows beneath him, electric eyes seeing only him as he—

“Do you remember the first time the Inquisition came to Orlais?” she asked, breaking him out of this thoughts. She was staring down at her slippers, and he could see that blood had seeped into the edges, as if she’d stepped in a puddle of it. She probably had. “We were just establishing ourselves, and that woman… I don’t remember her name, that iron lady, she wanted to join us. She killed that man right in front of me, in front of a whole room of courtiers, as if she had nothing to fear.”

She looked over her shoulder as if she could see through the doors to the lingering courtiers inside, or perhaps to where the body of Empress Celene had fallen after Keria had allowed the assassination to take place.

“You were scared of her,” he recalled.

“ _Terrified_.” She shook her head. “Not just of her, but of this side of humans I hadn’t seen for myself until then. And I was… I was _angry_ that she could think that I was the type of person who would be impressed by that! Or flattered, or whatever it was she intended.”

Keria let out a deep breath, and stared at her palms. Did she see the blood she’d spilled on them? The mark, perhaps? The power she wielded? A Dalish girl rising to power in a human organization based on a religion she had no part of, using it to decide the fate of nations…

He started to reach for her, but she spoke again.

“I owe her an apology. Who I am now, tonight… This is who she expected to meet that day. She wasn’t wrong, just… early.” She closed her eyes and he moved closer to her. “Maybe I can have Josephine send her a basket of fruit or something.”

They fell into silence. Solas knew he should say something, could see her turmoil, but he didn’t want to respond because he didn’t want her to think about it anymore, didn’t want her to go through what he had once. She’d always accepted her influence like the burden it was, but it was clear that tonight had gone too far. He didn’t want to see her like this. She needed a distraction, a way to forget tonight’s events.

And he wanted to do that for her. To dominate the sharp focus of her thoughts away from anything but the two of them. To watch her tension melt away as she came for him…

His blood pumped hot with wine and desire. In their silence he could hear music drifting in the air. He bowed to her, offering his hand. “Come,” he insisted. “Dance with me before the band stops playing.”

He could see her small smile at the thought, then her hesitation — what would the nobles say if they saw her dancing with a manservant, an elf? What would her advisors think? What other work should she be doing?

But then she placed her hand in his, a silent agreement to allow him to occupy her thoughts over her duties, just this once.

~~~~~

It was so late that it was now very early as Keria walked into her bed chambers — some guest suite of Gaspard’s that Josephine had arranged — and Solas followed behind her. She tossed her mask in all it’s dragonbone filigree onto a vanity, then removed her earrings as well. She struggled out of her dress and tossed it onto a chair; she’d spent months embroidering the damn thing but now she never wanted to see it again. She just wanted to get the night off of her, all the perfume and blood, and get some sleep.

She looked over her shoulder to ask for help but Solas was already there, reaching for the laces of her corset. He pulled the laces free, movements steady, which was impressive considering how much wine she’d watched him drink. She let out a breath of relief — the contraption hadn’t felt nearly as constricting as she’d thought it would be, but she definitely felt more like herself without the costume. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I think the servants readied us a bath, but after tonight I just want—”

She cut off with a gasp as he bit her neck _much_ harder than usual. He yanked the last of the laces free and her corset fell to the floor, exposing her breasts to the chilly air. His long fingers wrapped around her wrists, easily confining both her hands with one of his.

“Solas? What are you—”

He growled and caught the sensitive tip of her ear between his teeth this time. When she made no effort to speak again he released her, only to bind her wrists together with the laces of her own corset.

Well this was new… What had gotten into him?

“You were magnificent tonight,” he said as his nimble fingers bound her together with seemingly well-practiced knots. Instinctively she remained still as he took a step back and circled her. Standing there, stripped down to her silken petticoats of midnight blue, she felt as if he were appraising her.

There was nothing but approval in his gaze as he stood facing her now. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to tilt her head to look up at him. He stepped close enough that she could feel his body heat, and almost seemed to tower over her.

“You have brought an entire nation to its knees, Inquisitor…” he said, his lips just a breath away from hers. His fingertips moved away from her chin to trace her jaw to the nape of her neck. Then he gripped her there, so that she couldn’t turn her head away. His eyes flashed dangerously. “And I can bring you to yours.”

His forearm pushed down on her shoulder, and his meaning was obvious.She wasn’t sure what was about to happen, but she knew if she wanted to put a stop to this now was the time.

Keria held his gaze as she wordlessly dropped to her knees.

His smile was wicked, all hunger and pride. He parted the bottom of his purple formal jacket to reach the bulging laces of his breeches, not bothering to remove belts or anything else. When his member sprung free she assumed she was supposed to take him in her mouth, which was surprising — he rarely let her do this for him, like he never wanted to be the one being pleasured, so for him to _demand_ it from her was very unexpected. She certainly wasn’t about to deny him, but his erection pointed high and proud and with her hands bound she couldn’t bring the tip to her lips. She kissed the underside instead, slow and heated on his soft skin.

He gently pet the top of her head and levered his cock down for her, and she took it eagerly.

It was tricky, working him like this. Without her hands She also had nothing to brace herself with as she moved in and out, which felt awkward.

After a moment he gripped her short hair in his long fingers and started to control the pace himself. He didn’t slam into her; instead he was painfully slow, deep, deep enough that she couldn’t breath, deep enough that her throat burned as it stretched around him. She instinctively tried to pull back but he easily held her there, pausing for several long seconds before pulling back.

He spoke as she sucked in air through her nose. “You trained for months in anticipation for tonight.” She hardly registered his words as he moved his hips forward again, then slowly back, then again. “Classes on etiquette, diplomacy, dancing, culture… Every hour your tutors took you away from me I could not help but imagine other teachings I wished I could turn your focus to. Things that require just as much endurance, perhaps…” 

His voice was husky. He gently stroked her cheek, prompting her to open her eyes. He was watching her, eyes heavy-lidded as he worked her. She had the rhythm now, though the sharp pain in her throat still left pinprick tears in her eyes. 

“It would be worth the work, would bring you so much more than the Game ever could…” He chuckled, half-panting. “Though I suppose it’s another sort of game, isn’t it?”

His hips were moving more freely, and she tried to speed up their pace. She could taste the salt of him in the back of her throat now, as if he were right on the edge, and she wanted to work him harder to bring him over it… But he wouldn’t let her, tightening his grip to control her.

Finally he pushed himself in deeper than she’d thought he could go and held himself there. Gagging, unable to breath, she tensed and tried to pull back. He held her firm though, and she forced herself to calm. She wasn’t helpless to stop him — she had magic, and teeth — but this was Solas. She trusted him.

He kept her tight against him for several more seconds before he relaxed his grip. Keria pulled back far enough to take a deep breath but didn’t release his cock. She wriggled her tongue under it and blinked up at him, challenge in her eyes.

His smile sent heat straight through her. He pulled away, trying to withdraw from her lips, but she made a show of leaning forward to keep him from pulling out.

“Mag’ana, Vhenan,” he purred in a slew of elvhen she didn’t understand. “Consaer. La ar’annasa ma av’siti. Mir tem par’a.”

He cupped his hand under her chin and lifted it, so she slowly got to her feet. She wanted to ask what prompted this behavior, what this meant to him, why this ‘game’ somehow felt reverent… He cocked his head with a smirk, clearly waiting for her questions, but she kept them to herself. She hadn’t forgotten how he’d punished her for them before.

He let out another heady chuckled. “You always were a fast learner.” He walked around her again, and stood behind her to run his hands down her breasts and stomach, then pull her hips tight against his.

With a smile she tilted up her ass to grind against his erection and he hummed in approval.

Then, taking fistfuls of fabric, he bunched up her petticoats inch by inch. “But then again, I shouldn’t be surprised at your ability to be quiet, should I?” He pushed his hand into her smallclothes and slid his fingers along her folds, coating himself in her. Tension instantly lanced through her, settling tight and low. “You are always so quiet. A ‘Dalish trait’ as you called it once.”

He wrapped his other arm around her to hold her steady as his fingers swirled hard circles around her clit. She threw her head back, resting against his shoulder as her breath hitched.

“You always did make me work for it. Every moan, every scream…” He cupped his fingers to plunge into her. “ I must always wrest them from you.”

His voice was frustrated. Was he disappointed? Keria knew she was quiet in bed, but she’d never known it had bothered him. She couldn’t really make up for it _now_ , silently squirmed between his hand and his cock. Not when she was apparently forbidden from speaking. She could hardly focus on anything beyond the tension building in her and his warm breath on her neck.

His expert fingers were working her, hard and wet, and though his arm held her tight in place she couldn’t stop her hips from canting. Right before she climaxed his fingers stopped cold, pressing still against her nerves.

She couldn’t smother the frustrated whine that left her, and didn’t even care when his punishing teeth sank into her neck. “Please—”

“ **No** ,” he growled, sending a shiver down her spine. “I do not want to hear anything from you except my name as you scream with pleasure. Do you understand me, Inquisitor?”

Keria nodded, biting her lips together in frustration.

He chuckled into her neck, kissing it slowly. “So used to getting your way, ma vhenan. It must be hard for you to hold still for me…” His fingers stirred. “You’re so wet, so pliant and ready…”

His fingers were so slow it felt to her like they were barely moving, and somehow that made every sensation that much more important. It took all of her control not to demand more.

He made the demands instead. “Show me. Let me see how badly you need it and maybe I will show you mercy.”

Confused, she hesitantly moved herself into his fingers. No further instruction came so she kept at it, trying to find her release against him. But it wasn’t working — it just wasn’t enough pressure without his participation. Soon she was focusing more on rubbing against his incredibly hard member with her backside than her cunt on his digits, hoping to entice _him_ into impatience.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he said after a moment, “and it’s not going to work. I assure you, I will not grow tired of you fucking yourself against me, nor of how you shake so when you’re close but can’t. Quite. Get. There.” He punctuated each word with a hard press against her that was almost, _almost_ , enough to finish her off. “I’m not sure I’ve ever felt you dripping down my hand this way, so hot against my—”

She took a risk. “Solas!” she shouted, trying to force a lot into the name: a demand, a plea, and a cry of pleasure because that was the rule he’d set. He hadn’t specified she could only use it when she came. She _couldn’t_ come, not like this.

He growled loud and threatening and she guessed her risk hadn’t paid off as she was being pushed forward until her thighs hit the bed. He shoved her and she landed face down on the mattress, unable to catch herself with her hands still bound behind her back. She was still catching her bearings when he slapped her ass so hard the sound practically echoed in the room. She cried out but he ignored it to yank down her smallclothes with both hands. 

“You always find another way out, don’t you?” He spanked her again, pausing to grab a handful of her ass this time. Then he slapped the other cheek, for good measure she supposed, then he was already plunging into her, filling her before she had time to react.

His movements were hard and fast and she was so wound up that she came apart almost instantly, belatedly remembering to shout his name as she came down.

He did not slow. He held her narrow hips in his wide hands and yanked her into him every time he snapped his hips. With her hands still tied she could barely move; Solas had complete control of her body. Some part of her knew it would only take a word to stop him but she never even considered it. He showed no signs of his own release, he just kept going, filling her more and more and deeper and harder until even she couldn’t keep quiet. She didn’t want to do anything that would make him stop fucking her like this so when she couldn’t take anymore she made sure her cries took the shape of his name. _Solas! Sol— ah— ah, Sol-as, Sol-as!_

Every time she adjusted to his size he kept stretching her more, more than she’d ever been before, and it was painful but perfect but impossible… She tried to twist her head to watch him, to see if he was using something else to fuck her with.

All she saw was Solas, still fully clothed in the purple-and-gold Inquisition military uniform, his face red under a sheen of sweat and a wild look in his eye.

Her eyes squeezed shut as she came again, screaming his name in broken syllables as he impaled her on his enormous cock, which she was only now realizing must be magically enhanced in a way she’d never seen.

It was a relief, yet also a disappointment, when he withdrew from her. She was pushed onto her back and he was standing over her. He held her gaze, panting and intense, as stroke himself above her. She watched wide-eyed as he had to use both hands on his big wet cock, and as he spent himself in hot strands on her breasts and stomach. He kept at it until the last drop shuddered from him.

Then he smiled as his eyes swept her up and down, admiring his work. “Well done, Vhenan.”

Solas tucked himself away and gently guided Keria to roll over enough for him to untie her. After he’d unwound the laces from her wrists she sat up, and he took a wrist in each of his hands and pressed soft kisses to the red imprints on her skin. “How do you feel, Vhenan?”

“I’m… Not sure.” She answered truthfully as he walked to the water closet, rubbing feeling back into her hands. The whole things had been intense, and there was pain, but she also felt sort of… freed, maybe. “Good? My ass still hurts from that slap.”

He chuckled, returning with a wet cloth. With a light touch he cleaned the cum now drifting slowly down her torso, catching it before it could stain the expensive petticoats she still wore. “You did beautifully.”

Just what had she done, exactly? He moved her skirts aside to clean between her legs but she took the cloth to do it herself. Then she stood, watching him closely. “That was rather unexpected, Solas. What was that all about?”

“A distraction from your duties,” he said, face unreadable. He pulled her in an held her close, arms wrapping around her. When she opened her mouth to ask more, though, he kissed her, slowly but soundly, palms resting on her backside. He still tasted faintly of wine. When the kiss broke he said, “And I am not done yet.”

“What?”

But he was already leading her to step back, hands on her hips guiding her out towards the balcony doors. “I wanted to do this earlier, before we left the Winter Palace, but it was not the time. Now, it is.” He released her to pull the doors open wide. Moonlight shone brightly on the scene, both moons full tonight.

“Time for…?”

With a smile and a small bow he held his hand out to her as if asking her to dance once more.

And, once again, she took it.

“These same moons have watched over Thedas since before Arlathan,” he said, as if that explained anything. He led her to the balustrade, near the wall, and gestured for her to sit. When she did he spread out her skirts behind her, as If putting her on display. “They have resided over all of history, and tonight they will bear witness as I worship you.”

Solas knelt before her in supplication and spread her knees. Her hand shot out and latched onto the trellis running up the wall, her other hand gripping the railing beside her. He was kissing her inner thighs, first one side then the other and back, but she interrupted him. “Vhenan, ir abelas, but there’s no way I can finish again. You have me _very_ well done.”

He smirked up at her, wicked and cocky. “Oh, but you will.” He kissed the side of her knee. “There is no hurry. I will kneel on the hard stone and pray to your quim for however long it takes, Keria. Be it hours or days.”

With the last of his words his gaze dropped from her face to her core and he buried himself in her now.

Keria was tired, and spent, and sitting out here for days did not sound appealing in the least. But his tongue was slow, wet, and methodical, and that was enjoyable, however spent she was. He did not seem to lose any interest, despite how she felt she was just sitting here.

After several long moments, though, she felt the hint of tension, felt that maybe he was right.

She made sure her grip on the trellis was secure but allowed the rest of her body to slacken. Her head fell back, face tilted up to the moons and stars, eyes closed. She could feel her nipples tighten in the evening breeze that fluttered her skirts, but the heat building in her kept her warm.

She focused instead on her lover’s ministrations. She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but he worked diligently and at long last she felt herself getting close and needy. She forced herself to patience; she didn’t buck or grab his head to force him to work her harder. Instead she waited, putting him to the test until his tongue and teeth finally brought her to a shuddering peak.

She didn’t bother calling his name — she stuck with what came naturally, a rush of breath as her eyes flickered open. She let her orgasm ride her fully, not moving until it had taken its course.

Then she blinked down at Solas, his expression soft, and she realized that the sky was already turning pink with the approaching dawn.

So much for sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> No I'm serious though -- if he can control his hair growth just imagine what else he can control with ease on demand... No cock rings needed to keep it up, y'know?


End file.
